Turnus, at full speed, had outridden far his laggard host, and, leading in his train a score of chosen knights, dashed into view hard by the walls. A barb of Thracian breed dappled with white he rode; a crimson plume flamed over his goldenhelmet. Who, he cries, Is foremost at the foe? Who follows me? Behold! And, with the word, he hurled in air a javelin, provoking instant war: and, towering from his horse, charged o'er the field. With answering shout his men-at-arms pursue, and war-cries terrible. They laugh to scorn the craven hearts of Troy, that cannot give fair, equal vantage, matching man to man, but cuddle into camp. This way and that Turnus careers, and stormily surveys the frowning rampart, and where way is none some entering breach would find: so prowls a wolf nigh the full sheepfold, and through wind and rain stands howling at the postern all night long; beneath the ewes their bleating lambs lie safe; but he, with undesisting fury, more rages from far, made frantic for his prey by hunger of long hours, his foaming jawsathirst for blood: not less the envy burned of the Rutulian, as he scanned in vain the stronghold of his foe. Indignant scorn thrilled all his iron frame. But how contrive to storm the fortress or by force expel the Trojans from the rampart, and disperse along the plain? Straightway he spied the ships, in hiding near the camp, defended well by moundedriver-bank and fleeting wave. On these he fell; while his exultant crew brought firebrands, and he with heart aflame grasped with a vengeful hand the blazing pine. To the wild work his followers sped; for who could prove him craven under Turnus' eye? The whole troop for the weapon of their rage seized smoking coals, of many a hearth the spoil; red glare of fuming torches burned abroad, and Vulcan starward flung a sparkling cloud.